Shake it up, baby

 Don't get me wrong....I have posted already about the clean, pristine air, the amazing, natural food and the gorgeous vistas.  And, I don't "blame" Italy for the things I do complain about.  Much of what I find frustrating is because we are in a small town.  Would I rather be somewhere else?  Likely, but there are tax advantages to be here which expats like us would not have in a larger town or small city.  So, here we are.

We live on what is called a "piazzetta"...not a piazza, which is larger and likely has businesses.  This is a small piazzetta at the end of a narrow block that leads to the passaggiatta that rings around the outside on this side of town.  Much like the dead end blocks I knew as a kid that ended in what we called "courts"...a rounded section at the end.  There are no businesses here, other than a small dance studio for little girls.  Just us folks, a couple of little tiny children...a teen.  

Someone decided this would be a great place to hold a 3 night "festa."  The town granted a permit for it, which really surprises me, but.....

This was what I saw this morning right outside our front door.  

Last night, starting at 7pm and going to midnight, they had food and music.  Meaning there were amplifiers right outside our door and our window.  Right OUTSIDE our living room.  So, for the sake of this "festa" the residents were all disrupted and inconvenienced and downright angry. 

Oh, yeah, and those people with cars?  They had to move then and keep them moved for FIVE days. 

Because we had been out earlier in the day, we had pizza to heat in the microwave.  I holed up in the bedroom with Netflix (and earplugs) and several scared cats.  My husband was in the kitchen with his computer.  The living room was unlivable. And it will be unlivable tonight and tomorrow night, too.  Even with everything shut, including our front shutters, the relentless boom of the speakers penetrated our home.  BOOM...BOOM...BOOM.

When I was finally tired enough to go to bed, I returned my computer to the living room for charging.  The damned room was shaking, as if a small earthquake was going on ....and on....and on.

Public piazzas are there for the public.  There are businesses all around.  Yes, there are some residents, but they have to know what living in or near a public piazza means.  THIS is NOT a public piazza.  I'm angry that I cannot enjoy my own fucking living room.  I'm angry about the relentless noise.  My husband has told me three times today that his ears are still ringing.  I'm angry that the town would allow this to take place in a residential area.    Poor judgement, poor management....whatever.  In my opinion, this just isn't right and likely would not happen in a less rural environment.

It don't come easy....

We were up at 6am.  It was still as dark as the middle of the night and it was gently raining.  The cats were curious....."what's you doin' up?"  I had some tea and a piece of toast because there is a medication I MUST take with food, so they say.  Ugh....I cannot STAND getting up in the dark and I can't stand eating as soon as I wake up.  Bleh!

We left the cats dry food....and walked around the corner to wait for our friend who was driving us into Pescara.  Today we go BACK to the Questura (police) for our permessi.  Joy.

We got slightly stuck behind a slowpoke and then at one point up ahead the cars came to a stand still, so we got off onto a bit of "highway" that sort of zipped into the city.  It was, after all, "rush hour in the big city."

                                                  Pescara Questura, Sept 2023

We got there still with some time to spare, but the sight of about 10 to 12 people milling about outside did not inspire confidence.

It was still drizzly and chilly.  We stood for a bit and finally I said "Scusa" to the young man in front of me and went inside.  Both benches were vacant, so I sat and soon my husband walked in too.  

Eventually, an officer came out from the back room and asked who we were, why we were there...looked at our IDs and appointment papers.  He told a couple of young women who had wandered in to go back outside, along with my husband.  He allowed me to stay.

After waiting nearly a half an hour, I was called up to the window....I signaled my husband.  With that, the young police officer behind the window did a cursory flip through our papers.  He asked for my passport and permesso.  Then he said...."You have not been here 5 years."  I stood there wide-eyed.  My husband began to protest.  He said it again....."No, no...it is not five years until November 3."  At this point, I rolled my eyes.....two weeks from now?  What is this???

Well, apparently, this is "police humor."  Had we not been sleep deprived and nervous.....maybe...maybe we would have found some levity in this, but that was not the case.  The officer went on to say, "You have to come back on November 3."  I said, "Fine, what time?"    With that it seemed the joke was over and he continued to process our papers.  I suppose, because they screwed up the appointments the first time and this was our second attempt and HE was the very same young gentleman from the first time that he thought he was being funny.  His attempt fizzled. (So funny I forgot to laugh)

His buddy at the other window (there are only two) had made a similarly bone head attempt two years ago when he said that our American bank account information wasn't in Italian.  To which my response was "Sono numeri"....they are numbers.  Ha ha....very funny....not Italian.  😖

At this point, the guy at the other window was free, so he took my husband.  I was asked where I was born and what is my phone number.  Then I had to provide my signature on an electronic gizmo thing.  Then I had to have a couple of fingers printed...also electronic.  And then he took the passport photo we had done recently and popped it into the computer and that was that.  "Buongiorno!"  Both of them with big smiles on their faces.  Good thing there was glass between us.  Sheesh.  (I'm sure they are nice guys and I was just in a VERY bad mood)

We got home by 11am, as the skies were clearing.  I fed the cats and gave Scruffy his asthma medicine.

By this time, we were both famished.....we walked up to Bar Centrale.  It was early by pranzo standards, so there was a large selection.  My husband had white lasagna, I had penne in tomato sauce with cheese and peas.  I also had gelato.  Then I fell asleep for two hours!

Now we wait.  If all goes well, we will have our "Carta Permanente" and not have to go through this procedure every year.  Fingers crossed!